


senses be praised (kissing and running away)

by blackrose1002, BlackVultures



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Future Fic, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-27 21:57:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19798576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackrose1002/pseuds/blackrose1002, https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackVultures/pseuds/BlackVultures
Summary: Jack smiled back at him, before his eyes flicked to the inside of Mac’s wrist and widened slightly. “That’s new.”It took Mac a second to realize what he was talking about, but then it clicked. While Jack was gone, Mac had gotten his first ever tattoo—a simple paperclip on the inside of his right wrist. But it’d been almost a year since then and he’d forgotten it was there. “Yeah, it is.” His smile turned wry. “I made the mistake of telling Desi I liked her tattoos, and she peer pressured me into it.”From behind him, Desi snorted and hip-checked Mac out of the way so she could hug Jack herself. “Like hell I did! You practically galloped into that chair, you little masochist.”Mac immediately missed the feeling of Jack’s arms around him, but he forced himself to get a grip. He was out of practice since he hadn’t had to hide his feelings for Jack without him around, but now he’d have to go back to his old ways of shoving all that down when he was around the team. “Okay, maybe I did.”(Or the one where Mac started getting tattoos while Jack was gone... including one that changes everything.)





	senses be praised (kissing and running away)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi y'all! It's been like two seconds, but [blackrose1002](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackrose1002/pseuds/blackrose1002) and I are back AGAIN with another fic! This is another getting together fic that includes a hefty dose of smut, but it has a _little_ plot, unlike the last few. I put it together so any mistakes are mine, and we hope you enjoy it! Please let us know what you think!
> 
> (Title is from "Heaven" by The Rolling Stones, off - you guessed it - Tattoo You. Yes, I'm that lame.)

Jack came back from the Kovacs mission on a Friday morning with no warning whatsoever. One minute Mac was waiting with Riley, Bozer, and Desi in the war room for Matty and his dad, and the next thing he knew, Jack walked in the door instead. They all jumped to their feet except for Desi, who never jumped at anything—but she stood after a significant pause.

Riley was closest to the door so she got to hug Jack first. “Jack, what are you doing here? Is the mission over?”

Jack wrapped his arms around her and spun her around, laughing loudly. “Yeah, it is—I’m back, baby girl.”

The next person to pounce on Jack was Bozer, because Mac was frozen in place. He stared at Jack with wide eyes, and when Bozer let go Mac lunged forward without conscious thought, throwing his arms around Jack’s neck. “I missed you,” he said quietly, and that was a massive understatement. As fantastic as Desi was, working without Jack— _living_ without him—had been like losing a limb.

Jack hugged him close and whispered, “I missed you too.”

Mac pulled back enough to look at him and grinned. He left his hands on Jack’s shoulders and just… looked for a minute, taking in Jack’s shadowy beard and the lines around his eyes. “It’s good to see you, man.”

Jack smiled back at him, before his eyes flicked to the inside of Mac’s wrist and widened slightly. “That’s new.”

It took Mac a second to realize what he was talking about, but then it clicked. While Jack was gone, Mac had gotten his first ever tattoo—a simple paperclip on the inside of his right wrist. But it’d been almost a year since then and he’d forgotten it was there. “Yeah, it is.” His smile turned wry. “I made the mistake of telling Desi I liked her tattoos, and she peer pressured me into it.”

From behind him, Desi snorted and hip-checked Mac out of the way so she could hug Jack herself. “Like hell I did! You practically galloped into that chair, you little masochist.”

Mac immediately missed the feeling of Jack’s arms around him, but he forced himself to get a grip. He was out of practice since he hadn’t had to hide his feelings for Jack without him around, but now he’d have to go back to his old ways of shoving all that down when he was around the team. “Okay, maybe I did.”

He was definitely _not_ thinking about Jack touching his tattoos, or doing anything else to them—nope, not in the slightest. The team’s old banter started up again, and by the time Matty and James arrived the war room was more like a three ring circus and Mac forgot about his little paperclip again.

~***~

Mac didn’t think about his tattoos again until a week later, when the whole gang was over for a cookout at his house and he and Jack decided to play some pickup basketball for the first time in _forever_. They threw on old t-shirts and shorts and played until they were sweaty and out of breath. There was no reason to keep score, since they were heinously out of practice and barely landing baskets.

They sat down on the pavement and guzzled from water bottles, and Jack stared at Mac’s left leg. “You got another tattoo?”

“What?” Reflexively, Mac followed Jack’s gaze to the side of his calf. An iris that was about six inches long sat on his skin, all vivid purples and greens, right above the jut of his ankle. “Oh, yeah. I got it not long after the paperclip one.” He smiled softly, reaching down to touch the edge of the tattoo with his fingers. “This was my mom’s favorite flower.”

He wondered, not for the first time, what Jack thought of his tattoos. After that time in the war room he never commented on the paperclip again and Mac didn’t ask, too afraid of what the answer would be.

“That’s… really awesome, man,” Jack said, and when Mac glanced at him he could see the sincerity shining in his eyes. “It’s nice that you got something to remember her by.”

After that they got up and started playing again, checking each other and laughing like nothing had changed. And nothing did… until the day Jack saw Mac’s third tattoo.

~***~

It happened the following weekend, when Jack, Desi, Bozer, and Riley were over at Mac’s, hanging out after a mission. It was still weird for Jack to think of Bozer as a guest when he and Mac had lived together for so long, but he was happy in his new apartment with Leanna and that was all that mattered.

They were having a good time, and Bozer got too exuberant with a gesture on his way back to the fire and spilled his beer all over Mac. He apologized profusely but Mac waved it off, taking off his soaked shirt and tossing it aside. Jack swallowed hard and felt himself die inside, because Mac shirtless was something to behold… and evidently that shirt had been hiding yet another tattoo.

It was above Mac’s left hip, and it took Jack’s brain several beats to process what he was seeing, and even then he wondered if he took a hit to the head he didn’t know about because what he _thought_ he was seeing couldn’t be right. The tattoo looked an awful fucking lot like the image featured in the corner of Metallica’s self-titled album cover: a coiled-up silvery-black outline of a snake with its mouth open and hissing. And Jack made Mac listen to that album more times than he can count, but it must’ve been some kind of coincidence… right?

Desi saw Jack’s reaction and smirked knowingly, taking a sip of her beer. “You okay, Dalton? You look a little shell-shocked.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” Jack replied automatically, still staring at the tattoo as Mac got Bozer another beer and laughed at a joke Riley made. He was so _not_ good, but he wasn’t about to admit that to Desi. “I’m… fine.”

In that moment, Mac turned to look at Jack and obviously clocked his reaction to the tattoo. He cleared his throat and asked, “You want another beer, Jack?”

Jack’s gaze snapped up to Mac’s face, and he felt something in his chest twist painfully when he realized Mac was pleading with his eyes for Jack not to say anything in front of the team. And even though Jack was losing his shit, he would never knowingly do anything to make Mac uncomfortable, so he smiled and nodded and accepted the offer of another beer.

It seemed like it took ages for them to finish drinking, and Desi was the one who ushered Bozer and Riley out the door—Jack made a mental note to find a way to thank her for that at a later date. He and Mac started cleaning up bottles and pizza boxes, and that meant going their separate ways for a while, since the recycling bin was out in the garage.

When Jack came back into the kitchen, Mac was standing with his back to him… and he had on a flannel shirt, unbuttoned and loose at his waist, which meant it probably used to belong to Jack. He sensed Jack’s presence behind him and tensed. “Whatever you’re gonna say, just go ahead and say it.”

“That’s a nice tattoo you’ve got,” Jack said, congratulating himself for sounding relatively normal. “I didn’t realize I made you like Metallica that much.”

“I don’t suppose you’ll believe me if I tell you it was a random design I saw in the tattoo parlor?” Mac asked, tone evasive. “Because if you make me tell you why I actually got it you’ll probably run out of here like your ass is on fire.”

“I know I’m an idiot sometimes, but I ain’t _that_ dumb, man—and nothing you ever do is random.” Jack was worried about why Mac might be being so cryptic, though his mind couldn’t latch on to any particular reason why. “And you know I’d never make you do anything you don’t want to, but…”

When Mac spoke next, his voice was small: “I got it for you.”

For a few seconds Jack only heard white noise, and he froze in place. “For… me?” he repeated, full of wonder. “You got it for _me_?”

“I know it’s weird,” Mac started, the words dull as they fell from his lips. “And I don’t blame you if you’re not okay with it. Not much I can do about it now except get a cover-up if it bothers you that much, but…” He trailed off and shrugged his shoulders.

“No, no,” Jack rushed to say, taking a step closer. “It doesn’t bother me, Mac. Not at all.” His heart felt like it was going to pound of out of his chest, even though his brain was telling him that while Mac might’ve gotten a tattoo for him he probably only meant it in a friendly way. But then… why was he so afraid to tell Jack? And why did he think Jack would run away if he did? “Mac? Why do I get the feeling you’re expecting me to bolt any second now?”

Mac finally turned around, and the expression he wore was… scared and devastated. “I _am_ expecting that, Jack. You have to… there’s no way you don’t know what it means,” he said, the sentence breaking in the middle. “You said it yourself, you’re too smart not to have figured it out.”

And Jack couldn’t stand seeing that frightened look on Mac’s face, so he tried putting himself in Mac’s shoes. He wondered what would make _him_ feel like that if he were facing Mac… and the only thing he came up with was Mac somehow finding out that Jack was in love with him.

Realization must’ve shown on his face, because Mac let out a hollow laugh. “Now you know.” There were tears in Mac’s eyes now, and he took a step forward, trying to walk past Jack and get away.

Jack’s hand came up to catch Mac’s arm, stopping him in his tracks. He let out a harsh breath, because if he was wrong—even though he’d ruled out everything else at that point—he was completely screwed. He used his grip on Mac to turn him a little, and then he put his other hand on Mac’s face and reeled him in for a clumsy, slightly off-center kiss.

It was quick, and when Jack pulled back, Mac was staring at him with wide eyes. “… Jack?”

And Jack’s stomach dropped to the fucking floor, because mac looked so shocked… that could only mean he wasn’t expecting that at all and it wasn’t something he wanted, right?

“Shit,” Jack whispered, horrified at himself and the idea that he could’ve screwed up _this_ badly. God, he really did break everything eventually, didn’t he? “I’m so sorry, Mac, I—we can just forget that ever happened, okay?” When Mac didn’t move, didn’t even blink, Jack amended, “Or I can just get out of your hair, you can work with Desi again—I’m sure you’ll figure something out.” He took a stumbling step backward toward the door.

~***~

It was Mac’s turn to stop Jack this time, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him close, until their faces were just inches apart. He could barely breathe, because Jack… Jack felt the same way he did, at least in some capacity. They stared at each other for a moment before Mac found the courage to whisper, “You don’t have to go, Jack.”

Jack’s hands tentatively settled on either side of Mac’s waist, over the drape of the flannel shirt. “I think maybe there’s some miscommunication happening here, hoss. You _don’t_ want to hit me for kissing you?”

“No,” Mac breathed out, shaking his head. “Of course not—Jack, I’ve wanted to kiss you for years. There’s no way I’m hitting you for doing it first.”

“You’re serious?” Jack asked, and when Mac nodded, he grinned at him. “Well, in that case…”

He leaned in again, one hand coming up to cup Mac’s jaw as he pressed their lips together, slower and more coordinated this time. Mac kissed him back, wrapping his arms around Jack’s body to pull him in tighter. There was a part of Mac that couldn’t believe this was happening, but he pushed it away, too focused on the feeling of Jack’s lips on his. The kiss stayed chaste for all of five seconds before Jack licked over Mac’s lower lip, and Mac shuddered and opened up for him, their tongues sliding together as Jack’s fingers crept up to touch Mac’s cheek before sliding into his hair.

Mac breathed in harshly through his nose when Jack tangled his fingers in his hair, tugging lightly. Not loosening his grip, Mac backed Jack up until he had him pressed against the counter, the kiss growing more heated. Jack made a sound Mac had never heard before, something between a groan and a growl when Mac nipped at his lip. The hand on Mac’s waist slid under the shirt, rough callouses catching on smooth skin until Jack’s fingers brushed over the snake tattoo, making Mac jump in his arms.

Jack pressed his hand flat against the tattoo and pulled away just enough to talk. “Why the snake?” he asked, his hot breath ghosting against Mac’s lips.

“Because the self-titled album’s your favorite,” Mac replied breathlessly, his brain shorting out a little at the feeling of Jack’s hand on his body like that. “Well, besides Kill ‘Em All and Ride the Lightning, but neither of those albums have art I wanted on my body forever.”

“You…” Jack trailed off, amazement in his voice. “You remembered all that?”

Mac brought a hand up to touch Jack’s cheek, fingers stroking over his stubbly beard. “Of course I did,” he said, a fond smile twitching at the corners of his lips. “Jack, you’re the most important person in my life. I pretty much remember everything about you—especially since you’ve given me your definitive ranking of every Metallica album twenty times now.”

“I didn’t think you were listening,” Jack said, smiling back at him. “Since you hate their music and all.”

“I don’t _hate_ it, exactly…” Mac trailed off, not sounding convincing in the slightest, and his smile turned into a grin when Jack laughed. “But I associate it with you. And I… maybe didn’t think the placement through. Figures I’d have to take off my shirt in front of you sometime.”

“Well, I’m not complaining.” Jack rubbed over the tattoo with his thumb, and a thought seemed to occur to him. “Wait—you hoped I wouldn’t make the connection, didn’t you?”

Mac shifted a little, not away from Jack but just in general, gaze cutting off to the side for a moment before coming back to Jack’s face. “Maybe?” The whole thing was such a theatrical admission of guilt that Jack pulled him closer and buried his face in Mac’s shoulder to laugh again. “I didn’t think it was _that_ funny…”

“You know,” Jack wheezed out, his whole body shaking. “You’re so smart, but sometimes that brain of your just shuts off. How could you think I wouldn’t recognize it?” He pulled back, grinning wide. “You might as well have chosen the Delta insignia.”

Mac felt himself flush from his ears to his cheeks. He _did_ think of that but decided against it because everyone else would’ve instantly known what it meant and who it was for if they saw it.

Jack’s hand went still. “You’re kiddin’ me,” he said, but no, Mac was serious. “I love you so much.”

Those words knocked the breath from Mac’s lungs, because Jack kissing him was one thing, but Jack _loving_ him? This couldn’t be real. “I… I love you too. Obviously.”

“Not sure I’d say it’s _obvious_ , since it took you practically hitting me over the head for me to figure it out,” Jack drawled, and then he picked up Mac’s hand—the right one—in his own. While keeping eye contact, he brought Mac’s wrist to his mouth, pressing his lips to the paperclip tattoo. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, Mac. I’m just happy you feel the same way so I can stop kicking myself for being a creepy old man.”

Mac let out a shuddering breath at the feeling of Jack’s lips against his wrist, all kinds of emotions welling up inside him. He couldn’t understand how someone as weird and clingy as him could be everything a man as amazing as Jack had ever wanted, but he trusted Jack—not only with his life, but with his heart. He felt his eyes fill with tears, and he pressed himself as close to Jack as possible, burying his face in Jack’s neck.

“You’re not old,” was the first thing he could think to say, and it came out a bit muffled and too choked up for his liking.

Jack’s arms wrapped around Mac, hugging him tightly. One of his hands came up to cup the back of Mac’s head, the other one rubbing up and down his back comfortingly. “There are days I feel a lot older than I am. You help with that, though—with a lot of things.”

It took a moment for Jack’s words to register in Mac’s brain (he smelled _really_ good), but once they did, he frowned against his skin and made a questioning sound, urging Jack to elaborate. He knew Jack had been through a lot, probably more than one person should ever have to deal with, but he didn’t know he’d… brought solace or comfort without realizing it.

Jack sighed, pressing his face against Mac’s hair. “I’ve done terrible things, Mac. Things fully endorsed by my country, sure, but they’re still things that should never see the light of day. And for me, you’re that daylight. You chase all that shit away, or at least make it easier to cope.”

“You did what you had to do. You did your job.” Mac pressed a gentle kiss against Jack’s neck before he pulled back to look at him. “But I’m glad I’m doing something right, something that helps you live with it.” He touched Jack’s cheek lightly with his fingers. “And it works both ways, you know? You know how I get sometimes, right? Usually you’re the only thing keeping me sane.”

“I don’t know, it sounds like Desi did a pretty good job of that while I was gone,” Jack said, because he was many things Mac loved, including humble. He nuzzled into Mac’s touch, mouth quirking upward as he added, “Well, maybe except for the part where she turned you into a tattoo junkie.”

“She did a good job having my back, but she wasn’t able to keep me from getting lost in my own head sometimes. No one was.” Mac bit his lower lip, thinking about something. “And when it comes to the tattoos… I guess we’re both to blame. You don’t… hate them, right?”

Jack’s eyes went wide and he shook his head. “No, nope, that’s not—you don’t need to worry about that.”

It took Mac a second to work out what the dilated pupils and the flush to Jack’s face meant, and when he did he was surprised—he thought the tattoos were… attractive? Mac didn’t get much time to wonder about it because then Jack was kissing him again, one hand wandering back around to Mac’s front to rest over the snake. This kiss wasn’t gentle or slow, far from it, and Mac moaned a little when Jack bit down on his lower lip. Sliding his hands to Jack’s waist, Mac slipped them under his t-shirt, running his fingers against Jack’s abs and then moving them to his back, pressing Jack against the counter with his whole body.

Jack’s fingers came up to comb through Mac’s hair before they rested on the back of his neck, breaking the kiss in favor of mouthing at Mac’s sharp jaw, lips dipping lower to explore the skin of his neck. Mac gasped when Jack nipped at his throat, moving lower still and huffing when the collar of the flannel shirt got in the way. He reached up and slid the shirt off Mac’s shoulders, forcing Mac to stop touching Jack for a moment until he got his arms free. Once the shirt was off they were back on each other, Jack’s hand back on the snake while he put his lips to Mac’s collarbone.

One of Mac’s thighs pressed between Jack’s without conscious thought, seeking friction, and he was both amazed and aroused when Jack’s legs move apart for him, his partner muffling a groan against Mac’s shoulder when the muscle of his thigh ground against Jack’s half-hard cock. Mac’s hands rucked up Jack’s shirt until he pulled away to rip it over his head before bending Mac backward a little, forcing him to arch his back while Jack’s lips attached to one of his nipples, tongue flattening against sensitive skin. After a moment Mac grabbed Jack’s face in his hands and pulled him up to crash their lips together, grinding his thigh a bit harder against him.

“Bed?” Jack asked against Mac’s lips, the single word trailing into a groan at the feeling of Mac thrusting against his hip.

Mac shifted his grip to Jack’s shoulders, tugging him away from the counter and through the living room, leading them down the hall to his bedroom via sense memory and not much else. He was distracted by Jack sucking on his tongue, but he managed to get them into his room without hitting anything; when the backs of his knees touched the mattress he let himself fall, dragging Jack down with him. Once they moved up the bed Mac hooked a leg over Jack’s hip and rolled them, breaking the kiss to trail his lips down to Jack’s neck and then his collarbone.

Jack’s leg curled over Mac’s waist once he was underneath him, but not to flip them again, just to bring him closer. He moaned appreciatively when Mac’s tongue licked over a scar on his chest, Jack’s hands exploring the smooth planes of Mac’s back before drifting lower, sliding over his ass and squeezing hard. Mac sucked in a sharp breath and kissed his way back up to Jack’s lips, pushing himself up on a forearm and using his other hand to unbutton Jack’s jeans, sneaking his hand in to press against his cock through his underwear.

“You little shit,” Jack gasped, his hips twitching up toward Mac’s hand of their own volition. His own hands were practically tearing open Mac’s jeans and pushing them down.

Smirking, Mac pulled away long enough to kick his jeans off and help Jack get rid of his, along with their boxer-briefs. Once all the clothes were out of the way, he climbed back on top of Jack to kiss him again, groaning when Jack spread his legs so Mac could settle between them. And Jack’s hands didn’t stop moving, trailing over every part of Mac he could reach—although he did seem fond of the snake, coming back to it periodically like some sort of ritual.

Mac needed more, and soon, or he was going to lose his mind. “What do you… want to do?” he panted out, brain blanking out in the middle of the sentence when one of Jack’s hands wrapped around his cock.

Lazily stroking Mac’s cock, Jack used his other hand to bring Mac down for a kiss. “How about… you, inside me, now.”

“You… really?” Mac asked, and he wasn’t opposed to the idea, not at all… but that wasn’t what he expected to hear. He never imagined Jack would like to bottom (yes, Mac was guilty of dreaming about sex with his partner), but if that was what Jack wanted, he wasn’t going to complain.

When Jack nodded, Mac dove in to kiss him again, sucking on his bottom lip as he groped at the nightstand. He pulled the drawer open and grabbed lube and condoms, dumping the latter on the mattress while popping the cap on the former. His hands trembled a little and he had to pull away for a moment to see what he was doing while pouring it on his fingers. Taking a deep breath, Mac kissed Jack again while sliding his hand down, pressing his finger against Jack’s entrance.

Jack was incredibly responsive, opening for Mac on the first push, throwing his head back and giving Mac space to suck a bruise into the side of his neck. He focused on what he was doing with his mouth so he didn’t think too hard about how tight and hot Jack was around his finger. Once he was done with that bruise, he moved his lips below Jack’s collarbone to work on another one, and at the same time he added a second finger—the sound Jack made went directly to Mac’s dick. One of Jack’s hands was gripping his shoulder, and the other was clenched right above Mac’s hip, over the snake tattoo.

“You know,” Mac said, amazed at how steady his voice was despite the lust and the emotions building inside him, “if I had known you’d like that tattoo so much I would’ve gotten it in a more convenient spot.” He bit Jack’s shoulder for emphasis, scissoring his fingers for a while before adding a third one.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Jack gasped out when Mac pushed his fingers in deeper, brushing against his prostate. “I think… I think it’s in a perfect spot.” A twist of Mac’s fingers had Jack arching a little bit, pushing into his touch. “Mac, I’m losing my damn mind here.”

Mac’s lips kissed their way back to Jack’s mouth, hovering there for a moment without their mouths actually touching. He pulled his fingers out and the whimper Jack let out at the loss made Mac’s whole body jerk. He gave into temptation and kissed Jack, albeit briefly. “Condom? I just had my physical, I’m clean.”

“Me too,” Jack muttered against his lips. “Please just get inside me already.”

Reaching for the lube again, Mac slicked himself up and leaned down to rest his forehead against Jack’s, the head of his cock pressing against Jack’s hole. He slowly started pushing in, groaning at how good Jack felt around him. Jack was biting into his own lower lip, and he gave up on the tattoo in favor of wrapping his arms around Mac’s shoulders, his other leg joining the first around Mac’s waist. Once Mac bottomed out he stilled, burying his face in Jack’s shoulder and trying to breathe. He took a moment to collect himself and let Jack adjust, mouthing at Jack’s skin and concentrating on not moving.

Eventually, Jack wriggled his hips tentatively, making Mac shiver and moan above him. “C’mon, Mac, go for it,” he said, eyes nearly black with lust when Mac pulled back to look at him. “I’m not gonna break.”

Mac started moving, the first few thrusts slow and cautious because despite what he said, Mac didn’t want to risk hurting Jack. He couldn’t control himself for long, though, and his next thrusts grew harder and caused Jack to make the most amazing sound, one Mac immediately wanted to hear again. Crashing their lips together, Mac started kissing Jack like there was no tomorrow while picking up his pace; he was lean and athletically built, which lent itself well to repetitive motion. He rose up to brace himself on his forearms, searching for and finding Jack’s prostate after some trial and error. Jack’s fingers were digging into Mac’s back and he was letting out these breathless groans after every snap of Mac’s hips.

Mac could tell Jack was close—he didn’t know _how_ he knew, he just did. He also felt his own orgasm building up, but Mac was determined to make Jack come first, so he broke their sloppy kiss and moved his lips to Jack’s ear. “Come on, Jack,” he panted, nibbling at his earlobe and thrusting even harder, moving Jack up the bed with every slam of his hips.

All it took was one of those particularly hard thrusts and the barest brush of Mac’s fingers against Jack’s cock for Jack to come, moaning loudly as he spurted up his abs and over Mac’s hand. He clenched around Mac, and it was _almost_ enough… but when Jack’s hand came up to splay over the snake tattoo, fingernails digging into skin, it was over for Mac too. A long groan escaped him as he came, hips stuttering as he emptied himself inside Jack.

Once his hips stilled, Mac’s arms gave out and he collapsed on top of Jack, his face pressed into Jack’s neck as he desperately tried to catch his breath. He shut his eyes and tried to get a handle on his emotions, which were once again getting the better of him—he was usually good at keeping himself in check, but today he was a mess.

Jack hugged Mac tightly, legs falling to either side of Mac’s hips. He kissed Mac’s temple. “I love you… God, Mac, that was incredible.”

Mac lifted his head and looked at Jack with a smile that widened when Jack reached up to get the hair out of Mac’s eyes. Leaning in, he pressed a short, gentle kiss against Jack’s lips. “I love you too,” he said, and then kissed him again, just because he could. Settling back down on Jack’s chest, he rested his head on his shoulder, fingers drawing patterns against Jack’s skin. “You know, I’ve always figured you were, like, one hundred percent a top.”

Jack snorted. “Gee, I can’t imagine what gave you _that_ impression,” he said dryly, because Mac knew his macho routine better than anyone. His hand stroked absently down Mac’s spine, coming to rest in his lower back. “Usually I am… but if I really trust somebody? I don’t mind switching things up.”

Mac tilted his head back to look at Jack, feeling the weight of those words. He knew Jack trusted him, obviously, but this was… _different_ , and Mac reached up to run his fingers along Jack’s stubbled jaw, smiling softly. “I’m so glad you called me out on that tattoo.”

“Me too, darlin’,” Jack replied, turning his head enough to kiss the paperclip on Mac’s wrist, just like he did earlier. It was such an easy, casual gesture, and Mac knew he’d never get tired of it. “Me too.”


End file.
